


Take My Breath Away

by aliciameade



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Navy, Alternate Universe - Top Gun, F/F, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-06 07:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11031174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliciameade/pseuds/aliciameade
Summary: On March 3, 1969 the United States Navy established an elite school for the top 1% of its pilots. Its purpose was to teach the lost art of aerial combat and to ensure that the handful of men - and, 20 years later, women - who graduated were the best fighter pilots in the world.They succeeded.Today, the Navy calls it Fighter Weapons School.The flyers call it:TOPGUN.AKA Beca's a cocky af pilot in the Navy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As you might have surmised, this is an AU based on the movie Top Gun. It's heavy on the military lingo and everyone has two names - their given name and their call sign.
> 
> Radio transmissions (and singing!) are indicated by italics.
> 
> If you're confused by something, don't hesitate to ask (though in-flight lingo isn't going to make or break the story for you).
> 
> Also, most of the call signs have been changed from the movie. Have fun guessing who the characters are!

* * *

 

**14 APRIL 2017  
** **16:09  
** **SOMEWHERE OVER THE INDIAN OCEAN**

 

_“Ghost Rider, this is Strike. We have an unknown aircraft inbound Mustang. Vector 0-9-0 for bogey.”_

 

“Who's up there?” Commander Smith demands from the depths of the USS Enterprise as he watches the radar screen.

 

“Cougar and Bobcat and Maverick and Goose,” an ensign replies.

 

_“Great. Maverick and Goose.”_

 

_“Talk to me, Goose.”_ Lieutenant Beca “Maverick” Mitchell smiles as she hears the transmission come through from her carrier. She’s on a routine hop patrolling the Indian Ocean. Tensions with Russia are high - for the hundredth time in half as many years - and there’s been word of the Russian Navy moving a few subs nearer neutral waters.

 

And things are about to get interesting.

 

_“Roger, I got them. Contact, 20-left, 30 miles. 900 knots closure.”_ Goose always knows all as her Radar Intercept Officer and never once has Maverick lost faith in her RIO. Beca protects Jesse. Goose protects Maverick. They have their shit worked out and know how to get shit done.

 

_“Cougar, you hear that?”_ Maverick looks out across the nothingness between her F-14 and her wingman’s. She’ll fly 10,000 times and it will still feel badass to look out at a bird and know she’s right up there with them.

 

_“Roger. Bobcat, you got ‘em?”_

 

_“Roger. I’ve got radar contact.”_

 

_“I’ll get a visual ID. Cougar, you hook ‘em.”_ She’s itchy and excited with the unknown. There is no war, but the only birds that are supposed to be in that airspace right now are hers and Jessica’s.

 

_“Roger, and I’ll clean ‘em and fry ‘em,”_ Goose calls in with a laugh.

 

Like a choreographed dance she and Cougar bank left to intercept the uninvited bogeys.

 

_“Ash, see if he’s a single.”_

 

_“Roger. Goose, you see a trailer?”_

 

_“Negative, Bobcat. Looks like he’s a single.”_

 

Maverick smiles - that’s exactly what she wanted to hear. _“Cougar, I’m going to go head-to-head with him.”_

 

_“Take it easy, Maverick. I don’t like this.”_ Jessica sounds worried, but Jessica is always worried. _“I’m going to break high and right, see if he’s really alone.”_

 

Maverick sees Cougar peel away to go hunting and Goose calls in with an update. _“We’ve got a thousand knots closure, Mav. He’s coming right at us.”_ And fast.

 

She snaps her mask into place; if this is real-world, she’s going to need it. _“Okay, buddy. What’s on your mind?”_ She sees the first bogey on the horizon and a second later, two scream past her, dangerously close. _“Shit, there’s two of them!”_

 

_“MiG-28s! No one’s been this close before!”_ Jesse’s excited, too; she can hear it in his voice. He’s totally geeking out over the new foreign jets that they’ve received precious little intelligence on to-date.

 

_“Coug, you’ve got MiG One. I’m going after MiG Two.”_ She banks to catch her target, seconds later hearing Jessica’s increasingly panicked transmissions.

 

_“I lost him in the sun! Shit, what’s he doing? You got him, Bobcat?”_

 

_“He’s coming around on our tail!”_

 

_“God dammit! This bogey’s all over me!”_

 

_“Airspeed 300; go get ‘em, Mav!”_ Goose calls in.

 

_“I’m going for missile lock; let’s see if we can scare him out of here.”_ She pulls closer, tailing the bogey, willing the nose of her bird to pull into range. Almost...almost...the lock tone of victory rings out in her ears and on her radar screen and she cheers to herself, watching the bogey bank hard to shake her lock.

 

_“We got ‘em, Mav! He’s bugging out!”_

 

_“Mustang, this is Maverick. MiG Two is going home,”_ she calls in to the carrier. They aren’t finished yet, though, and she hears Ashley’s calm but anxious voice come in.

 

_“Cougar, he’s got missile lock on us. Get away from this guy.”_

 

_“What the hell is this? He’s engaging me! God dammit, Mustang, this is Ghost Rider 1-1-7, this bogey’s all over me, he’s got missile lock on me. Do I have permission to fire?”_

 

_“Do not fire until fired upon!”_

 

Maverick spots Cougar’s bird, banking wildly trying to shake the bogey that is matching her every move. _“Goose, there they are, right below us.”_

 

_“The MiG’s in perfect firing position. He’s right on Cougar’s tail.”_

 

_“No way, Goose. He’d have fired by now. He’s just trying to piss us off.”_

 

_“Maverick, get down here and get this asshole off me!”_

 

She slides in like a thief until she’s tailing Cougar’s tail. _“Easy, Cougar. Bring him back, hard right. Help me engage.”_ Jessica banks right, opening it up for Beca. _“I’m on my way.”_ The trio of jets spiral through the sky nearing the speed of sound and Beca’s blood is singing. _“I can’t shoot this son of a bitch, so let’s see if we can have a little fun with him.”_

 

A hard pull on the stick puts her into a full inversion and she laughs at the feeling, her weight against belts keeping her strapped in place as she descends upon the MiG until they're upside down on top of the bogey.

 

_“Is this your idea of fun, Mav?”_

 

She’s close - too close, by any rational analysis - close enough she can see the details of the other pilot’s flight suit and the fact that he has a photo tucked onto his dash. She smiles, though it can’t be seen hidden under her mask, and offers him the international symbol of “Fuck you,” with her middle finger. _“Greetings!”_

 

_“Watch the birdie!”_ Goose laughs and Maverick sees the quick flash of the Polaroid camera Goose always has handy for moments like this because Maverick likes to pull stunts, and rolls out of the inversion. _“Geez, I crack myself up. This is a great shot, Mav. I should be a photographer.”_

 

She laughs and watches MiG One disengage, leaving Jessica clear. _“Cougar, your tail is clear. MiG One has bugged out. We’ve had enough fun for one day, don’t you think? I’m getting a little low on fuel, so we’re heading home. See you on deck.”_ She banks and dives for her heading back to the carrier, giddy from the adrenaline of the unexpected dogfight.

 

_“Cougar, we’re running low on gas, we gotta get out of here. Cougar?”_

 

Maverick hears Bobcat talking, but Cougar isn’t answering. _“Goose, is Cougar behind us?”_

 

_“I don’t see her, Mav.”_

 

_“We’re on vapor, Cougar, let’s do it. Cougar! Come on, Jess!”_ More radio silence as Maverick lowers her landing gear. _“Let’s take it back to the ship. We are way low on gas; do you understand me? You all right?”_

 

_“Maverick, you’re at three-quarters of a mile, call the ball.”_

 

_“Roger, Maverick has the ball.”_

 

_“Cougar, it is time to land, let’s do it!”_

 

The deck of the Enterprise is at the nose of her bird, but she’s not thinking about landing anymore. Cougar isn’t responding and hasn’t said a word since MiG One had missile lock on her. _“Goose, Cougar’s in trouble.”_

 

_“C’mon, Mav, we’re getting low on gas. Let’s land this sucker.”_

 

_“Cougar!”_

 

The impact of the flight deck rocks the jet and instead of engaging the landing she re-engages a take-off.

  
_“What are you doing, Mav? We don’t have enough fuel!”_

 

_“We’re going after Cougar.”_ She ignores the repeated commands pouring in over comm to land, ignores the warning buzzers of the jet’s fuel levels, and heads back above the clouds until she’s alongside Cougar’s aircraft. _“You ladies seen an aircraft carrier around here?”_

 

_“Mav, we got a little problem up here,”_ Bobcat calls. _“That MiG really screwed her up. I don’t think she can make it back.”_

 

_“You’re okay, Jessica. Just stay on my wing. I’ll take you all the way in. Just stay with me.”_ She watches Jessica struggle to pilot, wings dipping and tilting like she’s asleep at the stick. _“Easy, Jess. Just a walk in the park.”_ She checks her altimeter. _“You’re a little low, Jess. Pull up. Good, that’s it. Almost there.”_

 

The flight deck calls in the landing and Beca gives Cougar more space, the Tomcat swinging wildly as it descends toward the runway. But she does it, catching the last wire to stop the jet from careening over the end of the carrier.

 

* * *

 

**14 APRIL 2017  
** **20:23  
** **USS ENTERPRISE, INDIAN OCEAN**

 

Beca and Jesse wait in the hall; they’ve been summoned by the Commander to report on today’s events. Something tells her he cares less about the bogeys and more about her insubordination. They have to wait because Jessica’s already inside, speaking to Smith.

 

When she exits, she has tears in her eyes.

 

“Cougar?”

 

“Thanks, Maverick.” Beca notices her wings are no longer on her uniform.

 

“Maverick, Goose. Come in here.”

 

“What the hell’s going on?” she whispers to Jesse, who looks as worried as she does.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Shit.”

 

They enter the Commander’s office and stand at attention. He doesn’t look up at them, instead, continues reviewing the papers on his desk. “Maverick, you just did an incredibly brave thing.”

 

She keeps her mouth shut, feeling very much like a “but” is coming.

 

“What you should have done is land your plane! You don’t own that plane; the taxpayers do! Your ego’s writing checks your body can’t cash. You’ve been busted. You lost your qualifications as section leader three times. Put in hack twice - by me - with a history of high-speed passes over five air control towers, and one admiral’s daughter.”

 

Jesse leans over to whisper, “Lexi Davidson?” and Beca offers a half-shrug confirmation.

 

“And you, asshole,” Smith directs at Goose, “you’re lucky to be here.”

 

“Thank you, sir.”

 

“Let’s not bullshit, Maverick. You and I both know there are a hundred men who think you don’t belong here and they do. You need to be doing it better and cleaner than the rest. Now, what is it with you?”

 

Beca holds her chin high against the jabs. “I just want to serve my country and be the best fighter pilot in the Navy, sir.”

 

Smith sits on his desk, glowering up at her. “Don’t screw around with me, Maverick. You’re a hell of an instinctive pilot. Maybe too good. I’d like to bust your butt, but I can’t. I’ve got another problem here. I’ve gotta send somebody from this squadron to Miramar. I gotta do something...I still can’t believe it.” He looks physically pained, sweating, grimacing. Whatever it is must be good, because Miramar is Beca’s heaven. “I’ve gotta give you your dream shot. I’m going to send you up against the best. You two characters are going to TOPGUN.”

 

She fights back a smile and sees Jesse shift next to her, surely doing the same.

 

“For five weeks, you’re going to fly against the best fighter pilots in the world. You were number two, Cougar was number one. Cougar lost it, turned in her wings. You guys are number one. But you remember one thing.” Smith’s in her face. “You screw up, you’ll be flying a cargo plane full of fidget spinners out of Hong Kong.”

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

“That is all. You can tell me about the MiG some other time.”

 

She and Jesse bounce toward the door exchanging excited glances only to be stopped by Smith’s voice again. “Good luck.”

 

* * *

 

**21 APRIL 2017  
** **10:03  
** **MIRAMAR, CALIFORNIA, AKA FIGHTERTOWN USA**

 

Beca has spent, quite literally, her entire life dreaming about Miramar.

 

She grew up hearing about it from her dad. Even visited it a few times. They’d sit on the trunk of his car along a runway and watch the jets fly in perfect formation overhead, marvel at the power of takeoff and grace of landing. Her dad would tell her about each type of jet they saw, its statistics - range, weaponry, what it was best matched against both with American and foreign aircraft. She knew by the time she was ten-years-old she wanted to be a fighter pilot just like him.

 

And now she’s back, this time alone - well, with Goose, but technically alone - as she races toward the air base on her Ninja 650 to catch up with the Tomcat that’s taking off. She watches it head up into the sunset and cranks the throttle of her bike as if she could possibly catch up with it in the sky.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

 

 **24 APRIL 2017  
** **08:13  
** **MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR**

 

“During Korea, the Navy kill ratio was twelve-to-one: we shot down twelve of their jets for every one of ours.” Lieutenant Commander Cynthia-Rose “Gomez” Adams stands at the front of the room as video recordings of now-ancient dogfights playing behind her, jet after jet bursting into flame.

 

Maverick and Goose sit in the front row.

 

“During Vietnam, that ratio fell to three-to-one. Our pilots had become dependent on missiles. They lost some of their dogfighting skills. TOPGUN was created to teach ACM: Air Combat Maneuvering. Dogfighting.”

 

“This gives me a hard-on,” a voice behind her whispers.

 

“Don’t tease me,” whispers back.

 

“By the end of Vietnam, that ratio was back up to twelve-to-one. I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce you to our commanding officer at TOPGUN, the very first woman to win the TOPGUN trophy. You won't find a finer fighter pilot anywhere in the world. Commander Gail Abernathy-McKadden-Feinberger. Call sign, Gold Digger.”

 

A proud woman with numerous ribbons on her pocket strides toward the front of the room, clearly comfortable in her position of leader. “Ladies and gentlemen, you are the top 1% of all naval aviators. The elite. The best of the best.” Maverick smiles up at her. “We’ll make you better. You’ll fly at least two combat missions per day, attend classes in between, and evaluations of your performance. On each combat sequence, you’re going to meet a different challenge.”

 

Beca watches with rapt attention until something flashing catches her eye. She turns toward it to find a stone-faced blonde spinning a pen between her fingers - the source of the flashing as it reflects the sunlight coming through the windows. She doesn’t stop twirling it when she notices Beca staring, and instead does it more quickly.

 

“We’ll teach you how to fly the F-14 right to the edge of the envelope, faster than you’ve ever flown before. And more dangerous.” Gold Digger paces the aisles of the classroom and Maverick feels the evaluations already beginning, so she decides to start her own and looks around the room. “Now, we don’t make policy here. Elected officials, civilians do that.”

 

She turns and again catches the eye of the twirler who this time flashes a cocky smile at her.

 

“We are the instruments of that policy and although we’re not at war, we must always act as though we are at war.”

 

“What are you doing?” Jesse whispers to her, having noticed her fidgeting.

 

“Just wondering who’s the best.”

 

“In case some of you wonder who the best is,” Gold Digger speaks with a tone that tells Beca she was heard and she turns back in her seat to scratch her nose uncomfortably, “they’re here on this plaque on the wall.” She turns around again, this time with the clear intent to see what plaque Gold Digger is referring to. “The best driver and their RIO from each class has their name on it. And they have the option to come back here and be TOPGUN instructors.” She makes her way back to the front of the room, casual confidence successfully intimidating Beca, but in a way that demands respect, not fear. “You think your name’s going to be on that plaque?”

 

It’s a rhetorical question but Gold Digger meets her eyes. “Yes, ma’am,” Maverick snaps. She hears whispers behind her again.

 

“That’s pretty arrogant, considering the company you’re in.”

 

Beca considers the comment and nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

Gold Digger nods. “I like that in a pilot. Just remember, when it’s all over out there, we’re all on the same team. This school is about combat. There are no points for second place. Dismissed.”

 

“Nice going,” Jesse says with a shove to her knee as they stand to leave. She knows what he means - she just made them the targets of everyone in that room. Not that she cares. She and Goose make their way toward the rear of the room to leave.

 

“The plaque for the losers is down in the janitor’s closet,” comes a snarky comment from the pen-twirler.

 

Jesse bursts into fake, overly dramatic laughter, clinging onto Beca’s back as he throws his head back. “Oh, Jesus! Oh, you kill me!” He calms down a little and points at the plaque to talk to the other pilots reading the names from classes past. “No, no no no. There’s two O’s in Goose.”

 

* * *

 

 **24 APRIL 2017  
** **20:47  
** **OFF-BASE BAR**

 

Their first night at TOPGUN demands a celebration and she and Jesse, and the rest of their class, roll into a bar on the outer edge of the airbase that, they are told, civilians frequent as well - especially those who have a preference for men and women in uniform.

 

So Maverick dons her freshly pressed service whites and strides in with Goose, looking ever-dapper in his own whites.

 

“This is what I like to call a target-rich environment,” she says to Jesse as they survey the crowded bar, a solid mix of uniforms and civvies. She knows she sounds kind of like a sleaze, but six years living in an environment that is made of up approximately 85% men has had an effect on her. She also isn’t apologetic about it - she respects women completely and also doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with casual sex. As an enlisted officer, that’s really all she has time for anyway unless she were to strike up a romance with a fellow officer. And while she’s had a fling or two, the fact remains that there are precious few women in the Navy, even fewer on her ship, and fewer still who are something other than heterosexual. If she wanted a man, she could have had 500 by now, but the two or three she’s invited into her bed were more than enough. Her trips ashore, however, are legendary among her squadron back on the Enterprise.

 

“You live your life between your legs, Mav.”

 

“Goose, even you could get laid in a place like this.” She slaps his back as they make their way to the bar for a drink.

 

“I’d be happy to find a girl who’d talk dirty to me.”

 

She laughs because poor dopey Jesse, who is truly adorable and the best guy, can barely strike up a conversation with a girl. They stake a claim at a vacant spot at the bar and he nudges her shoulder. “You wanna know who the best is? That’s her, Elsa. The ice queen.” Beca looks across the room to see the pen twirler sipping a vodka nonchalantly, all but ignoring the civilian man practically drooling over her. “It’s the way she flies, ice cold, no mistakes. She wears you down, you get bored and frustrated and do something stupid and she’s got you.”

 

Beca can only smile at him, nonplussed by the dramatics, and joins him in taking a swig of their beers as a tall brunette in dress whites strolls by; she recognizes her from that morning’s orientation where she was sitting next to the ice queen. Apparently, Goose already knows her by name.

 

“Hey hey, Einstein!” he says cockily as he plucks at the RIO insignia pinned to her shirt. “I thought you wanted to be a pilot. What happened?”

 

“Goose, you’re such a prick. Whose butt did you kiss to get in here?”

 

“Well, the list is long but distinguished.”

 

“So’s my dick,” another officer chimes in as he passes by; Beca recognizes his voice, the same one who whispered about getting a hard-on in class.

 

“So you’re flying with Elsa, huh?” Goose continues, ignoring the charming fellow.

 

“That’s Her Highness to you.”

 

As though her ears are burning, the ice queen herself joins their little group, all fake smiles and pleasantries. “Hey, Mother Goose! How’s it going?” she asks as she shakes Jesse’s hand. Apparently, Jesse knows her, too.

 

“Aubrey, this is Beca Mitchell,” he says, making introductions. “Beca, Aubrey Posen.”

 

Aubrey shakes her hand, and it feels _almost_ sincere. “Congratulations on TOPGUN.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear about Cougar. She and I were like sisters in flight school. She was a good pilot.”

 

“Still is a good pilot,” she corrects.

 

“Yeah, that’s what I meant.” Elsa brushes her correction aside and reaches to snag a handful of cashews off the bar to pop them into her mouth one by one. “You need any help?”

 

Maverick takes another sip of her beer to buy her a second and keep her attitude strong. “With what?”

 

“You figured it out yet?” Elsa’s too close, grinning in her face.

 

She only wishes she knew what the fuck Elsa was talking about so she could come up with a smart response. “What’s that?”

 

“Who’s the best pilot.” She snaps another cashew between her teeth.

 

Beca meets her stare. “No, I think I can figure that one out on my own.”

 

“I heard that about you. You like to work alone.”

 

Einstein saves her from having to come up with another retort. “Mav, you must have wished on a lucky star, huh? First the MiG, and then you guys slide into Cougar’s spot -”

 

“We didn’t ‘slide into Cougar’s spot,’” Goose says with an attitude that makes Beca proud. “It was ours.”

 

“Some pilots wait their whole careers just to see a MiG up close,” Einstein says, directing the comment at Maverick. “Guess you guys are lucky _and_ famous, huh?” She and Elsa toss back matching shots of vodka.

 

“No, you mean ‘notorious,’” Elsa corrects before walking away. “See you later.”

 

“You can count on it.”

 

“They didn’t get enough love in their childhoods,” Goose says as he leans against the bar next to Maverick, picking at the label on his beer.

 

Beca smiles at him and offers her bottle to him for a toast. “We’re going to have a good time.”

 

“Always.” They turn to survey the room again, their toast an unofficial kickoff to the night’s intended goal. “Okay, it’s my turn! The bet’s $50.”

 

“$50,” Maverick says with a nod.

 

“You have to have carnal knowledge - of a lady this time,” he says pointedly after she duped him for the easiest $50 of her life a few months ago in a bar in Taiwan, “on the premises.”

 

“On the premises.” Just then, someone catches her eye across the bar: a civilian redhead who manages to make Beca forget how to breathe for a few seconds.

 

“C’mon, Mav. A bet’s a bet.”

 

“I don’t know, Goose. It doesn’t seem fair. For you, I mean.” She nods at the girl across the bar to bring her to Jesse’s attention. “She’s lost that loving feeling.”

 

“No she hasn’t,” Jesse says. The look on his face says it all. He knows he’s lost.

 

Beca claps him on the shoulder. “Yes, she has.”

 

“She has not.”

 

“Goose, she’s lost it.” She smiles and starts making her way through the crowd.

 

“Mav, c’mon...I hate it when she does that.” She sees him throw a cashew on the floor and follow her. They’ve done this enough times that he knows the routine and they make their way through the crowd to the other side.

 

“Excuse me,” Beca says with a tap to the redhead’s arm.

 

The girl turns and gives a look of annoyance, which Jesse anticipates and intercepts. “Sorry, ma’am, I got this.” But instead of ushering the would-be suitor away, he strikes a pose as Beca breaks into a cappella song on the crackly bar microphone she found along the way.

 

 _“You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips,”_ she sings.

 

The girl stares at her in surprise, eyebrows high.

 

Jesse takes the next line. _“And there's no tenderness like before in your fingertips.”_

 

They’re rocking in sync now, having worked out the kinks of their terrible choreography ages ago.

 

 _“You're trying hard not to show it, baby,”_ Beca resumes, giving her all to the redhead who looks like she doesn’t know whether to laugh or run. _“But baby, baby I know it.”_

 

And by now, everyone in their immediate vicinity is in on it, her fellow officers joining in a now terribly off-key chorus.

 

_“You lost that loving feeling._

_Whoa, that loving feeling._

_You lost that loving feeling._

_Now it's gone, gone, gone…”_

 

“Oh my God, sit down,” the redhead says with a laugh and Beca throws her fist up in victory as she takes the empty stool next to the girl to the cheers of her fellow officers and a handshake from Jesse.

 

“I love that song,” the redhead says with a bright smile as Beca gets comfortable. “I’ve never seen that approach. How long have you two been doing this act?”

 

Beca’s confidence borne of her perceived victory falters a bit, being called out so directly like that. “Oh, I don’t know...since…”

 

“Puberty?”

 

“Yeah, puberty,” she says with a laugh.

 

“I’m Chloe Beale,” the girl says as she offers her hand.

 

Beca shakes it. “I’m Maverick.”

 

“Maverick?” Chloe frowns. “Did your mother not like you or something?”

 

“No, it’s my call sign.”

 

Chloe gasps. “You’re a pilot!”

 

“That’s right. A naval aviator.” She had this shit down to a science; chicks swooned over pilots, herself included. “Actually, I’ve only done this twice.”

 

“Oh, how’d you do?”

 

“Well, the first time I crashed and burned. It wasn’t pretty.”

 

“And the second?”

 

“I don’t know, I’ll tell you tomorrow. But it’s looking good so far.” She smiles, knowing she’s charming the pants right off this girl. However, the girl starts moving, gathering the two drinks in front of her that Beca hadn’t noticed until then.

 

“Well, Maverick, my friend just arrived, so it’s been great talking to you.” Just then a man approaches them and Chloe hands him the drinks and says she’ll be along in a second. “But can I ask you a personal question?”

 

“That depends.”

 

“Are you a good pilot?”

 

Beca reins in her desire to brag. “I can hold my own.”

 

“Good. Then I don’t have to worry about you making your living as a singer.” She smiles teasingly with the comment and Beca has to swallow every ounce of her pride as Chloe slides off her stool to join the main in a booth in the corner.

 

“I’m gonna need another beer,” she says to the bartender. “Gotta put out these flames. Crash and burn. Good job, Mav.” She’s only grateful Goose is nowhere to be seen and no one had to witness her massive swing-and-a-miss. And she’s miffed that Chloe implied that she’s not a good singer. She’s not a pro, but she knows she’s decent.

 

But not sixty seconds later, when she’s sipping her new beer and chancing a glance at Chloe and her friend, Chloe meets her gaze and slips out of the booth with an inaudible comment to her friend and disappears around the corner.

 

She considers Chloe’s intent. If that meant anything. Beca’s no stranger to receiving - or giving - “The Look” before excusing oneself to the restroom or some other private corner for a quickie. And while Chloe had departed Beca’s company at the bar to be with her friend, she hadn’t really _rejected_ her. So she figures she might as well see what happens if she follows. If it’s nothing, it’s just two women using the ladies room. If it’s something, then she’s up $50 and a hot redhead.

 

So she follows.

 

Chloe’s at the sink touching up her lipstick when Maverick walks in, and she meets her eyes in the mirror. “Long cruise, sailor?” she teases.

 

“Too long.” Beca smiles and sidles up what is arguably too close for strangers, but Chloe doesn’t recoil.

 

Instead, she turns and leans against the counter. “You wanna just drop down on the floor and go for it?”

 

Maverick likes this girl more and more with every word she says. She’s onto Beca’s game and doesn’t hesitate to meet her tit for tat. She turns and gives the counter a good push or two as though testing its strength. “I had this counter in mind. I think it’ll support you just fine.”

 

“That’d be comfortable.”

 

“I’d make sure it was.” They smile at each other as Chloe reaches past her, bringing her teasingly close to Beca’s face to grab a paper towel. “Actually, I came in here to save you from making a mistake with that guy.”

 

“Really? So I can make a bigger one with you?” She tosses her crumpled paper towel to the trash and flashes a grin at Maverick who finds herself struggling for words for the second time in ten minutes with this girl.

 

“Maybe,” she tries. It’s weak, and it fails.

 

Chloe pushes out of her space. “I have to get up early.” She takes her leave and once again Beca’s relieved no one witnessed her horrendous failure. She wants to stop Chloe but lets her go, following her out the door and back into the bar where she sees Goose waiting alone with his beer. “Your friend was magnificent,” Chloe says to him as she passes, making a show of adjusting her skirt as she makes her way back to her booth.

 

Maverick’s delayed reaction to Chloe helping her win her bet is masked by Goose’s own stunned response and by the time he’s reacting, Beca’s got her chin up and shoulders back and a cocky smirk on her face.

 

“Nahhhh! No way!” Jesse says, and Beca just holds out her hand and waits for him to pay up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maverick = Beca  
> Goose = Jesse  
> Cougar = Jessica  
> Bobcat = Ashley  
> Commander Smith = John Smith (of Gail and John)  
> Gomez = Cynthia-Rose  
> Gold Digger = Gail  
> Elsa = Aubrey  
> Einstein = Stacie


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To recap Chapters 1-2:
> 
> Maverick = Beca  
> Goose = Jesse  
> Cougar = Jessica  
> Bobcat = Ashley  
> Commander Smith = John Smith (of Gail and John)  
> Gomez = Cynthia-Rose  
> Gold Digger = Gail  
> Elsa = Aubrey  
> Einstein = Stacie

* * *

 

 **25 APRIL 2017  
** **08:21  
** **MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR**

 

She’s feeling the lingering effects of the night out at the 08:00 class the next morning. Her class is effectively outside, seated in a wide-open hangar that allows enough sun in to make her head throb while making it acceptable to keep her aviator sunglasses in place to help her head.

 

Gomez is at the front of the class at a makeshift desk taking them through more orientations of what to expect at TOPGUN, and the lack of excitement is making it hard for Maverick to keep her eyes open.

 

“You'll also be trained and evaluated by civilian specialists. They are our very best source of information on enemy aircraft. One of the most qualified is our TAGREP, call sign “Rover.” She has a Ph.D. in astrophysics and she's also a civilian contractor, so you do not salute her. But you'd better listen to her because the Pentagon listens to her about your proficiency. It's all yours, Rover.”

 

Maverick hears heels clicking against the concrete floor of the hangar and when she looks up at the figure passing by down the center aisle of their desk, she freezes.

 

“Hello.” Rover is the redhead from the bar, and Maverick shrinks in her seat and tries to hide behind her sunglasses. “We will be dealing with F-5s and A-4s as our MiG simulators. As most of you know, the F-5 doesn't have the thrust-to-weight ratio that the MiG-28 has. And, it doesn't bleed energy below 300 knots like the MiG-28. However, the MiG-28 does have a problem with its inverted flight tanks. It won't do a negative-G pushover.”

 

At that, Maverick forgets for a second that Rover is Chloe and remembers how she saw that MiG maneuver in the unwelcomed dogfight that left Cougar too shaken to fly again. She takes off her sunglasses and leans over to whisper to Goose, checking his memory of the encounter as well.

 

“The latest intelligence tells us that the most it will do is one negative - Excuse me, Lieutenant, is there something wrong?”

 

Maverick looks up, knowing it’s she who’s being addressed. “Yes, ma'am. The data on the MiG is inaccurate.”

 

“How's that, Lieutenant?”

 

She removes her sunglasses, settling into her confidence. “Well, I just happened to see a MiG-28 do -”

 

“We!” Jesse interrupts. “We.”

 

“Sorry, Goose. _We_ happened to see a MiG-28 do a 4 G negative dive.”

 

Rover seems unimpressed. “Where did you see this?”

 

“That's classified.”

 

“It's what?” Rover almost laughs.

 

“It's classified. I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you.” She’s intentionally fucking with Rover now, and her classmates titter in laughter behind her.

 

“Lieutenant, I have Top Secret clearance. The Pentagon sees to it that I know more than you.”

 

“Well, ma'am, it doesn't seem so in this case now does it.” She smiles, enjoying having a one-up on Chloe.

 

“So, Lieutenant, _where_ exactly were you?”

 

“Well, _we_ -”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“- started up on his six, when he pulled through the clouds, and then I moved in above him.” She recreates the flight paths with her hands, indicating their positions.

 

“Well, if you were directly above him, how could you see him?”

 

She crosses her hands so they’re back to back, and rolls them for illustration. “Because I was inverted.”

 

Behind her, she hears Elsa mask a “Bullshit” in a cough followed by more laughs.

 

“No, she was,” Goose says as he leans back to speak behind Beca. “It was a really great move. She was inverted.”

 

“You were in a 4 G _inverted dive_ with a MiG-28?”

 

“Yes, ma'am.”

 

“At what range?”

 

“About two meters.” She looks to Goose for confirmation.

 

“Well, it's actually about one-and-a-half, I think. It was one-and-a-half. I've got a great Polaroid of it, and he's right there. Must be one-and-a-half.”

 

“Uh, Lieutenant. What were you doing there?”

 

“Communicating,” Jesse offers.

 

Beca nods. “Communicating. Keeping up foreign relations. I was, uh, you know, giving him ‘the bird.’” She sees Rover react, a roll of her eyes before she looks away.

 

“You know: ‘the finger,’” Jesse offers, recreating the moment for clarification.

 

“Yes, I know the finger, Goose.”

 

“I'm sorry. I hate it when it does that. I'm sorry. Excuse me.” He taps his middle finger as though turning it off and puts his hand down, the rest of the class laughing, though Maverick doesn’t hear Elsa’s voice.

 

“So you're the one,” Rover says to her, a small smile on her face.

 

She smiles at Chloe, her reputation apparently preceding her. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

Gomez’s voice cuts their moment. “Alright, kids, we have a hop to take. The hard-deck on this hop will be 10,000 feet. There will be no engagement below that. Move it!”

 

Maverick stands, still holding Rover’s look, and smiles wider before slipping her sunglasses back into place to head to the locker room and suit up for flight.

 

“Lieutenant!”

 

She stops, hearing Chloe’s voice, and turns to see her waiting in the doorway before she starts to approach.

 

“Don’t be late again. You look great, honey,” Goose jokes, patting at Beca’s collar before following the rest of the class to the locker rooms.

 

“Lieutenant,” Chloe says, leaning against a doorframe in the hall, files from class at her side. “Why didn’t you tell me you were the famous MiG insulter?”

 

“Would it have made any difference?”

 

“Not in the ladies’ room, no.”

 

She checks her watch and resumes walking. “What would have?”

 

Chloe follows. “I’m an instructor at this school. I see 20 new hot-shots every eight weeks. I’m sure you can figure that out. Look, Lieutenant.”

 

Beca stops to look at her.

 

Chloe seems to hesitate, and then, “I’d just really like to hear about the MiG sometime.”

 

Part of her wants to smile. The other part of her is still recovering from her rejection. “You’ve got security clearance. You can read about it.” She smiles and excuses herself to pre-flight.

 

She’s turning the corner at the top of the stairs when she hears Elsa call her name. She stops and watches her hop off her seat and mosey over, playing with an expensive-looking timepiece on her wrist. “I’m curious. Who was covering Cougar while you were showboating with this MiG?”

 

She knows what Elsa’s implying and doesn’t bite. “Cougar was doing just fine.” She leaves before Elsa can say anything else.

 

* * *

 

 **25 APRIL 2017  
** **10:11  
** **CALIFORNIA DESERT**

 

Gomez calls in over the open channel when they’re all airborne. _“Kids, this is your first hop. The jets you're flying against are smaller, faster, and more maneuverable, just like the enemy MiGs. The clock is ticking, and as of now, we are keeping score.”_

 

The desert races by below her Tomcat, mountains on the horizon. She’s flying, literally and spiritually, and is going head-to-head with their instructor, Gomez, who buzzes past their jet and out of sight.

 

_“I lost him, Goose. I lost him.”_

 

_“I'm looking, I’m looking! I got her, I got her, she’s on our tail, coming hard.’_

 

Maverick checks her 8 and spots the smaller jet. _“I got her. Here we go.”_

 

She leads Gomez back the way they came, banking and rolling, looking for an opportunity to take the upper hand. _“Talk to me, Goose.”_

 

_“She’s still back there. Closing fast.”_

 

 _“Alright, Gomez. Let’s see if we can give you a run for your money.”_ She heads west toward the mountains.

 

_“I’ve still got her, she’s still back there. C’mon, Mav, do some of that pilot shit.”_

 

Gomez is still with her after another series of maneuvers and she feels the tingling of inspiration. _“Goose, I’ve had about enough of this. I’m going to hit the brakes; she’ll fly right by.”_ She kills the throttle and pulls up, stalling for a half-second which allows Gomez’s jet to fly right under her and switch places. She throttles up, pumped that she’s doing the chasing now. _“Okay, Gomez, let’s see what you got now.”_

 

_“Okay, Mav, let’s turn and burn!”_

 

Gomez pulls a barrel roll and so does she, having as much fun with it as she is being all about business. They cross a rise of mountains and Gomez heads for the sky.  _“She’s going vertical. So am I.”_

 

_“We’re going ballistic, man, go get ‘em!”_

 

As soon as they’ve hit 20,000, Gomez is diving again.

 

_“She's going for the hard-deck, Mav. Let’s get down there and nab her.”_

 

 _“No way, Gomez. You're mine.”_ She pulls. Rolls. Dives. Wills Gomez’s jet into her sights until her missile lock tone is steady, marking a kill. _“Gomez’s dead!”_

 

 _“Gomez’s dead, woohoo!”_ Goose cheers from the rear and Maverick hears Gomez’s voice break their comm.

 

_“Get your butts above the hard-deck and return to base immediately.”_

 

 _“Yes, ma’am!”_ She’s hyped. Pumped. She’d be dancing in her seat if she didn’t have to fly this plane. She has the base in sight and radios in, _“Tower, this is Ghost Rider requesting a fly-by.”_

 

_“Negative, Ghost Rider. The pattern is full.”_

 

She descends as she circles the base. _“No, no Mav. This is not a good idea.”_ She feels Jesse tapping on the back of her seat but ignores it.

 

_“Sorry, Goose, but it’s time to buzz the tower.”_

 

She does it with another barrel roll, her jet screaming past the tower far too close to be considered safe, and close enough that she knows she just made the entire thing vibrate like an earthquake.

 

* * *

 

 **25 APRIL 2017  
** **13:03  
** **MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR**

 

“Yeehaw, Gomez is dead!” Goose high-fives Wolfman, whom Beca now knows as the hard-on-haver from Day One’s orientation.

 

“You won? Bullshit,” is Wolfman’s response from his position lying on a locker room bench.

 

“Didn’t everyone?” Goose asks, still bathing in their victory.

 

“We got our arses kicked.”

 

“Thirty seconds. We went like this, she went like that," he gestures, crossing his arms to show their flight paths. “And then I said, ‘Where did she go?’ And she said, ‘Where did who go?’”

 

“And she’s laughing at us right on the radio!” Taz adds.

 

“That was me laughing,” Einstein interrupts. “We won.” The other officers offer their hands to Einstein and Elsa in congratulations.

 

“They won, too,” Taz says, pointing at Maverick.

 

Elsa removes her aviators and fixes an errant lock of hair back into her low bun. “That’s not what I heard.”

 

“Well, we did, we got Gomez,” Goose says.

 

Einstein tuts. “No. Below the hard-deck doesn’t count.”

 

Beca shrugs off the top half of her flight suit. “Hard-deck, my ass. We nailed her.” She high-fives Goose.

 

“You guys really are cowboys.”

 

“What’s your problem, Posen?” Beca says, rounding on her.

 

Aubrey turns as well, but not before slamming closed her locker. “You’re everyone’s problem. That’s because every time you go up in the air you’re unsafe. I don’t like you because you’re dangerous.”

 

“That’s right!” Beca says, refusing to let Aubrey’s demeanor and stature intimidate her. “I am dangerous.”

 

Elsa just smiles at her. And clicks her teeth threateningly.

 

“Maverick.” It’s Gomez interrupting her moment again. “You and Goose get your butts out of that flight gear and up to Gold Digger’s office. Now.”

 

The sentiment of the statement was not positive, and Aubrey relaxes, giving Beca a pat on the arm before turning back to her locker.

 

“Remember kids,” Einstein says as she folds a towel over her arm. “No points for second place.”

 

“You’re a lot brighter than you look,” Goose says mockingly.

 

“You shut up.”

 

* * *

 

 **25 APRIL 2017  
** **13:41  
** **MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR**

 

She and Goose are once again waiting in the hall outside a commanding officer’s office. She can hear yelling inside; a man is pissed about her fly-by and keeps screaming how he ‘wants some butts,’ and she and Goose keep nudging each other and trying not to laugh, given their expectation to be standing at attention right now.

 

The man storms out of Gold Digger’s office, who follows him out casually. “Well, that about covers the fly-bys,” she says, knowing they heard everything, before walking away. “Follow me.”

 

Gomez is there, too, and follows Gold Digger.

 

They follow the two officers to Gold Digger’s office where she reviews written reports of some kind. “Maverick. Goose. You had a hell of a first day in the sky.”

 

They stand at attention at her desk, though she’s across the room looking out a window. Gomez is at-ease next to them, providing ample amounts of judgment.

 

“The hard-deck for this hop was 10,000 feet. You knew it. You broke it. You followed Commander Gomez below after she lost sight of you and called no joy. Why?”

 

Beca works to choose her words carefully. To be truthful but save their asses. “Ma’am, I had Commander Gomez in my sights. She saw me move in for the kill. She then proceeded below the hard-deck. We weren’t below 10,000 for more than a few seconds. I had the shot. There was no danger, so I took it.”

 

Gold Digger turns to address her. “You took it, and broke a major rule of engagement.” She’s far from pleased. “Then you broke another one with that circus stunt fly-by. Lieutenant Mitchell, TOPGUN rules of engagement exist for your safety and for that of your team. They're not flexible, nor am I. Either obey them or you're history. Is that clear?”

 

She swallows, feeling the gravity of the situation hit her. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

“Dismissed.”

 

They turn and exit, and the moment the door is closed she feels Jesse’s hand on her shoulder. “I really enjoyed that, Mav. Thanks a lot.” He then takes a Jesse moment to be dramatic against the wall, bemoaning his life choices, which she ignores because she’s spotted the signature red hair of one Chloe “Rover” Beale sitting in the office next door.

 

She sees Beca as well, offering a hint of a smile and Beca’s confident she knows exactly what went on in the air and in that office. She shakes her head, feeling like she could hide her tail between her legs, and keeps moving.

 

* * *

 

 **25 APRIL 2017  
** **21:19  
** **MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR**

 

She’s sitting up in bed when there’s a knock on her door. A few seconds later Goose pops his head in, eyes closed for any possible need for modesty. “Mav, you up?”

 

“Yeah, Jess. Come in. What’s up?”

 

“Can’t sleep.” He comes in and makes himself comfortable on the couch next to Beca and she can feel the anxiety coming off him in waves. “You know, when I first realized we were going to TOPGUN, all I could think about was that trophy. But I've got to be straight with you, Mav. Right now, I just hope we graduate. I can't afford to blow this. It’s all I got.”

 

She isn’t feeling great either and let her eyes fall. “I guess that fly-by wasn't such a big hit, huh?”

 

“I know it's tough.” She felt his arm around her shoulders. “They wouldn’t let you in the Academy because you're Duke Mitchell's kid. You have to live with that reputation. But it's like every time we go up there, you're flying against a ghost. It makes me nervous.”

 

His statement is sobering. “You're the only family I've got, Jess. I'm not gonna let you down. I promise.”

 

They sit together, quiet, until she feels his lazy hold turning into a hug, and she lets him do it for three-quarters of a second before shoving him away with a laugh. “Get out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maverick = Beca  
> Goose = Jesse  
> Cougar = Jessica  
> Bobcat = Ashley  
> Commander Smith = John Smith (of Gail and John)  
> Gomez = Cynthia-Rose  
> Gold Digger = Gail  
> Elsa = Aubrey  
> Einstein = Stacie  
> Rover = Chloe  
> Taz = Amy  
> Wolfman = Bumper


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To recap Chapters 1-3:
> 
> Maverick = Beca  
> Goose = Jesse  
> Cougar = Jessica  
> Bobcat = Ashley  
> Commander Smith = John Smith (of Gail and John)  
> Gomez = Cynthia-Rose  
> Gold Digger = Gail  
> Elsa = Aubrey  
> Einstein = Stacie  
> Rover = Chloe  
> Taz = Amy  
> Wolfman = Bumper

* * *

**2 MAY 2017  
** **09:33  
** **MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR**

 

Beca’s working through a scenario on paper during class when a voice offers, “A rolling reversal would work well in that situation.”

 

She looks up to see Chloe standing by her desk, reading over Maverick’s notes.

 

She considers Chloe’s suggestion but goes with her gut instead. “If I reversed on a hard cross, I could immediately go to guns on him.”

 

“But at that speed, it's too fast. It's a little bit too aggressive.” Chloe’s eyes flick between the notes and Beca’s, and Beca starts to feel the same tingling she gets when she’s making snap decisions at Mach 2.

 

“Too aggressive?”

 

Chloe nods.

 

“I guess when I see something, I go right after it.”

 

Chloe seems to blush and suddenly busies herself with the clipboard in her hand.

 

“You didn't tell me who you were the other night,” Beca says, referring to their first encounter.

 

“You didn’t give me a chance, did you?” She’s still fiddling with her clipboard and files, scribbling on a piece of paper to avoid eye contact. “You deserved it.”

 

“I know.” She has Chloe on her heels, and she does like to be forward. “But...you were tempted...to ask me out for dinner.”

 

Chloe finally looks up. “No.”

 

“No?”

 

“No.” Chloe goes back to writing. “I don’t date students.”

 

She feels the wind leave her sails and hears Einstein chuckling from the row in front of her, but tries one more time. “I can see it’s dangerous for you. But if the government trusts me, maybe you could?”

 

Chloe seems to consider her request, holding her gaze for a moment before tearing a sheet of paper off the pad on her clipboard and dropping it on her desk. “It takes a lot more than just fancy flying.” She departs, leaving Beca to feel like she’s struck out yet again.

 

Einstein laughs openly and turns, using her model airplane and sound effects to depict a fiery crash.

 

“Shut it, Conrad,” Beca snaps as she picks up the note Chloe gave her.

 

 _Dinner tonight. 5:30 pm SHARP!!! 100 Laurel Beach._ _Classified. _

 

* * *

 

 **2 MAY 2017  
** **17:21  
** **MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR**

 

For no logical reason she could think of, she and the rest of her class end up engaged in a beach volleyball match at the peak heat of the day, the mercury over 100º. She was grateful she’d been in a sports bra earlier so she could shed her shirt and not completely die of heatstroke. But, it was something to do to kill time between class and her unexpected date with Chloe, and she had energy to burn thanks to the anticipation of the night.

 

She and Goose end up losing to Aubrey and Stacie three games to two no thanks to their combined height versus hers and Jesse’s, and Aubrey’s trying to taunt them into a sixth game when she notices it’s already 5:30 and she bolts to grab her gear.

 

“Come on, Mav, just one more game,” Jesse begs when he catches up with her at the courtside bleachers as she shrugs back into her white v-neck.

 

“I’ve gotta go.”

 

“Please? For me?”

 

“I’m sorry, dude,” she says with a slap to his arm as she pulls on her bomber jacket to head for her bike.

 

* * *

 

 **2 MAY 2017  
** **18:08  
** **LA JOLLA, CALIFORNIA**

 

She’s late. She’s soooo late, and she speeds off base to find the address Chloe gave her, an oceanside house on a corner. She parks and bounds up the steps and rings the doorbell. And waits. She checks her watch: 18:08. She shakes her head. “Dammit.” There’s no answer so she peers through the window, but sees nothing. Desperate, she makes her way around the house to the rear.

 

“Lieutenant.”

 

She stops at Chloe’s voice and sees her sitting in the kitchen and enters sheepishly.

 

“What, no singing?” Chloe teases.

 

“I’m…” She checks her watch again. “I’m…”

 

“No apologies.” Chloe rises and busies herself with the dinner she was apparently making. Beca can’t help but notice that the only thing she seems to be wearing is a long white beach cover-up, and it’s falling off her right shoulder.

 

It makes Beca feel overdressed in her tee and jeans and she’s already gross and sweaty from volleyball - not at all how she’d prefer to feel on a first date. She thinks it might be forward, but so far, forward has been working for her. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just go take a quick shower while you’re finishing up here?”

 

Chloe turns and laughs. “Yeah, I do mind. I’m hungry.”

 

* * *

 

They sit at a table in Chloe’s patio. It’s warm from the heat of the day, but there’s a breeze off the ocean and a pair of ceiling fans helping the air flow. Beca suspects Chloe, in her linen shirt, is far more comfortable than she is in her tee and jeans.

 

“I thought about it. I thought, ‘You know, she's a smart girl. Why don't you just tell her why you've got her here?"

 

Beca smiles, feeling like Chloe’s about to flirt with her openly and tell her she wants her. "Why am I here?"

 

“It's the MiG.”

 

Her smile turns a little sour and she has to look down to hide her disappointment.

 

“You're the only pilot who's been up against a MiG. I'm trying for this big promotion. If I get it, I won't be here much longer.”

 

Beca hides her disappointment in snark. “Good for you.” She holds up her empty glass. “You forgot the wine.”

 

“Sorry,” Chloe says, rushing to pour.

 

“Do you always get what you want?”

 

“No, not always.” Chloe tilts her head, looking at Beca. “Yeah, maybe.”

 

“Then relax about the MiG.” She offers a cheers with their newly poured glasses and watches Chloe watch her as they drink.

 

Their dinner relaxes into a more casual conversation - who grew up where, Beca sharing stories of some of the ridiculous hijinks she and Jesse have gotten into over the years, what sparked their interests in aviation.

 

Chloe puts on a record while they talk and Beca recognizes it immediately: Otis Redding’s “Sitting on the Dock of the Bay.”

 

“This song...”

 

“Memories?”

 

“My parents loved it. I haven't heard this in years.” Beca doesn’t like to talk about her parents. So many painful memories to get through to get to the good ones. But being around Chloe, who stretches out on the couch to nod along to the beat, makes it feel not-so-bad. “My mom used to call down from her room and have me play this over and over. I got so sick of it. But not her. She'd sit up there alone, just listening for hours. Just listening. She died not too long after he did.”

 

Chloe sits up, turning to give Beca her attention. “What happened to your dad?”

 

“I guess I kind of figured with your security clearance, you'd know more about it than I do.” Beca takes a seat in the chair next to Chloe’s couch, wanting and appreciating the allowed closeness.

 

Chloe offers a cautious smile. “Well, I didn't get that far.”

 

Beca shrugs. “It's a big mystery. He disappeared in an F-4 November 5th, 2006. The story was that he messed up.” She shakes her head. “No way. My dad was a great fighter pilot. But who the hell knows? It's all classified.”

 

“Somebody must know.”

 

“Yeah, somebody knows everything.”

 

“Is that why you're always second-best up there?”

 

She tries not to be offended but thinks there’s a grain of truth in Chloe’s deduction. “You are direct, aren't you.”

 

Chloe smiles and looks at her.

 

Beca sits forward. “I'm sorry I was late.”

 

“I'm sorry for being direct.”

 

“No apologies.” She smiles at Chloe because she knows they can both feel the chemistry and electricity between them.

 

“This is going to be complicated.” Chloe looks up at her like she’s waiting to be kissed, but Beca sets her wine glass down and stands.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“I'm going to take a shower.” She smiles and Chloe chuckles a little. “Thank you. I enjoyed being here.”

 

She takes her leave, complacent with her decision to wait to kiss Chloe because she knows it will be worth it when the time does come.

 

* * *

 

 **8 MAY 2017  
** **14:57  
** **MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR**

 

She’s just finished her workout for the day, which she loathes but she knows is required to stay in shape for her physically demanding job, when they cross paths in the elevator. Chloe’s the only one in the car when she steps in and they exchange shy smiles of acknowledgment and this time, she feels underdressed in her gym clothes.

 

She waits until the doors close before turning.

 

“It looks like you need another shower.”

 

Beca looks down at her sweat-stained sports bra and laughs. “Right.”

 

Chloe seems to think a moment, and then turns to face her. “I’m going to be honest with you: your MiG sighting is really important to my work but, um…” Beca notices her eyes drifting down her body again and then snapping back up. “I don’t normally invite students to my house. You’re…” Chloe seems to become distracted, losing her train of thought.

 

Beca can feel the energy again, the shifting of it around them and she steps closer.

 

“But please understand, I still have a job to do.”

 

They hold each other’s stare until Beca starts to give in and lean forward, only for the elevator doors to chime and pop open, another, higher-ranking, officer stepping in. They move apart awkwardly and Maverick acknowledges him with a “Sir,” and tries to hide in the corner of the elevator.

 

Chloe’s in the opposite corner, looking like she’s trying to be nonchalant, but she keeps stealing glances at Maverick who just keeps her eyes on Chloe, meeting her every glance.

 

When the officer exits the elevator, Beca taps the button for the highest floor it will go to buy them more time and moves in close, way, way into Chloe’s personal space, who tries to take a step back but can’t, as she’s already pressed against the wall of the elevator. Beca could kiss her right now if she wanted; the way Chloe’s cheeks are flushed and eyes unfocused tell her everything she needs to know about the way Chloe feels about her. But she doesn’t.

 

“I’m glad we got that straight,” she offers with a smile that Chloe returns. They stay that way, close, not touching, watching the other, eye to eye, or eyes dropping to lips, until the elevator rolls to a stop again and Beca steps out. It isn’t her floor, but she’ll take the next elevator back down to the locker room.

 

* * *

 

 **11 MAY 2017  
** **11:32  
** **MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR**

 

Another day, another class. She doesn’t mind, though. It’s the whole reason she’s here. And it’s made better by the fact that Chloe’s leaning against the instructor’s desk doing her unintentional best to distract anyone in the room who might find her attractive. In her pencil skirt, button-down blouse, discarded blazer, and heels, Chloe’s working the sexy librarian look to a T, made even better by the pencil she’s used to secure her hair in a bun. Maverick’s sure there isn’t a person in the room who wouldn’t find her attractive. She tries not to stare, but the few times she fails, she catches Chloe seemingly doing the same, eyes darting away the moment she’s caught. Maverick’s just wearing her khakis like everyone else in the room, but she knows the effect a uniform can have on a person.

 

It’s how she has the reputation she has amongst her peers. She sits up a little straighter and gives her shirt a tug so it sits more flatteringly.

 

Gold Digger’s at the screen replaying the radar playback of Maverick’s latest hop. “The bogey has good position right here. A moment of choice. The F-14 is defensive. She has a chance to bug out right here. Better to retire and save your aircraft than push a bad position. Rover, jump in here any time. Now, you stay in that diamond another three seconds, the bogey's gonna blow you out of the sky. You take a hard right, select zone five, you can extend an escape. You made a bad choice.” She directs the last statement right at Maverick, who looks away in annoyance. “Rover?”

 

Chloe’s at the screen, replaying the radar to analyze it. “Aircraft One performs a split S? That's the last thing you should do; it’s reckless. The MiG's right on your tail. The MiG has you in his gunsight.” She turns to Maverick. “What were you thinking at this point?”

 

“You don't have time to think up there,” she answers. “If you think, you're dead.”

 

“That's a big gamble with a $50 million plane, Lieutenant,” she says, holding Beca’s challenging stare before turning her attention back to the screen and the rest of the class. “Unfortunately, the gamble worked; the MiG never got a clean shot. Maverick makes an aggressive vertical move here, comes over the top, and she defeats the bandit with a missile shot. The encounter was a victory, but I think that we’ve shown it as an example of what not to do.”

 

“Gutsiest move I ever saw, dude.” It’s Einstein, leaning in to whisper in her ear. She acknowledges the statement with a nod, but she’s pissed.

 

Elsa and Einstein’s radar is on the screen now. “Now, this is a perfect example of a textbook maneuver.”

 

More than Beca’s pride is hurt. Chloe stood in front of her peers and openly criticized her performance, labeling it reckless and a bad example. It’s not that she expects special treatment from the instructor who, at least she thought, might have feelings for her. But she thought Chloe knew her well enough to not do...well, anything she just did.

 

She leaves class quickly when it’s over and shucks her khakis in the locker room for her civvies. Chloe’s waiting at the door to the locker room when she exits but she ignores her, puts on her sunglasses, and keeps walking. She’s still pissed, perhaps irrationally, but she doesn’t care.

 

She can hear Chloe following behind her, heels clicking on the concrete. “Lieutenant. _Maverick_.”

 

She ignores her and starts her bike, revving the engine unnecessarily when Chloe catches up to block out whatever she’s trying to tell her.

 

Chloe forces her attention by putting a hand on the front of her bike. “Lieutenant Mitchell, my review of your flight performance was right on, in my professional opinion.”

 

“I can't hear you!” she shouts back, and maybe she’s being a little immature, but she’s mad and her feelings are hurt and she thought she had something with Chloe, only to find out she isn’t on her side at all.

 

She takes off, needing the speed and the wind. If she could hit the sky right now, she would. Instead, her bike has to do and she speeds toward home, running stop signs and red lights and swerving through traffic. She’s just parking her bike in front of her house when Chloe and her classic Porsche screech to a halt behind her. Beca had to have had a several-minute start on her, and somehow she caught up.

 

“Jesus! And you think I’m reckless?” She storms toward Chloe who’s climbing out of her car. “When I fly, I’ll have you know that my crew and my plane come first.”

 

“Well, I'm going to finish my sentence, Lieutenant!” Chloe slams her car door. “My review of your flight performance was right on.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

“Yeah. But I wasn’t completely honest. I see some real genius in your flying, Maverick, but I can't say that in there. I was afraid that everyone in that room would see right through me.” She hesitates, glancing around them before looking at Beca again. “And I don't want anyone to know that I’m falling for you.”

 

Beca stares at her, unsure that she really heard what she just heard. But Chloe’s looking at her with fire in her eyes, and fear, and all Beca can do is shake her head reach for Chloe to kiss her, moved beyond words.

 

It isn’t the first kiss she expected, but it’s perfect in its own way, borne of passion and fear of loss and rejection, one that was mutual, she realizes as Chloe pulls her closer by the sides of her jacket until she’s leaning against her car, pinned there with Beca’s hips against hers.

 

It’s with a giggle that Chloe steps out from their embrace and angles her head toward the house where they’ve both parked. “Your place?”

 

“My place,” Beca says with a smile as Chloe turns and makes her way up the stairs to wait for Beca to unlock the door.

 

Beca shucks her jacket the moment they’re inside and pulls Chloe close, allowing herself to get pinned against her front door. They kiss again, roughly, desperately, the weeks of tension between them spilling out in whimpers and sighs and wandering hands that have Beca untucking Chloe’s crisp white blouse from her skirt that Beca almost considers leaving on, sexy as it is. But instead, she untucks the shirt and feels for the skirt’s zipper until she finds it on the side and pulls it down to let it fall to Chloe’s feet.

 

She feels Chloe step out of it and kick it aside at the same time she feels Chloe’s hands under her shirt. They’re on her back, skin damp with sweat from the hot, angry ride home, and then they’re lifting her shirt up and off. Beca’s not in a sports bra this time, and she sees Chloe look down to see what she’s revealed and feels her pride being repaired at the way Chloe bites the corner of her lip as she looks at her body.

 

And then they’re kissing again, Beca pushing off the door with to walk them toward her bedroom. They get as far as the doorway and she misjudges, accidentally checking Chloe’s left shoulder into the door frame to startle both of them out of the kiss with the impact.

 

“Oh my God, I’m sorry, are you okay?” she says as she runs her hand down Chloe’s arm to feel for any open wounds.

 

Chloe, however, seems to not have noticed that she could possibly be injured and instead just nods dumbly before kissing Beca again. They fall into bed and Beca settles on top of her, using her position to take a figurative step back and just look down at the woman beneath her.

 

Chloe’s looking back up at her, eyes shining with happiness and excitement, the anger and fear of moments ago now gone. Her cheeks are flushed, maybe from the heat, maybe from Beca; she hopes it’s from her. Her hair’s a mess, windblown from her speeding car case in her convertible, and not made any better by Beca’s hands being in it while they made out against the front door. She can tell Chloe is breathing quickly, and the fact that she’s the cause of that, of all this, makes Beca smile and shift her position a little until her thigh, which she realizes is still annoyingly covered by her jeans, fits between Chloe’s.

 

There’s a slight hitch to Chloe’s next breath and Beca feels her move beneath her so she presses with her thigh more confidently. Her next breath comes as a groan and Beca feels Chloe shift over her thigh.

 

Beca nods - in agreement? Approval? She isn’t sure but nodding feels right so she nods before easing back down with painful, purposeful, teasing slowness until her tongue slips into Chloe’s mouth again, a slow, sensual kiss that makes her own toes curl. She feels Chloe’s hands at her back again, this time as fingernails, first tracing lightly, then dragging roughly, until they work the hooks of Beca’s bra to remove it.

 

Her bare breasts meeting cotton instead of skin remind her that she didn’t quite accomplish removing Chloe’s shirt before they hit the bed, and Chloe’s hands slipping into her jeans pockets remind her yet again that they’re still on, and she backs off of her until she’s standing again. She shucks her jeans down herself, leaving her panties on to give Chloe something else to remove, and watches as Chloe sits up with the same idea, hurriedly unbuttoning her shirt until it’s cast aside.

 

Beca slides back into bed quickly, this time on her knees and into Chloe’s lap as she stays sitting upright and Beca kisses her again. She lets Chloe lead it, happy to sit comfortably with her and let herself be kissed. She busies herself for a few seconds with Chloe’s bra, and when it’s gone she pulls her closer to be fully skin-to-skin. It’s warm in the room, her small window air conditioner struggling to keep up with the desert summer; it’s made even warmer by the heat they’re generating, and their proximity, but neither seem to care as kisses start to grow needy again.

 

Soon Beca’s rocking in Chloe’s lap. Hands are on her hips and thighs pulling her as she tries to grind against nothing. “Chloe,” she whispers, wanting to cross that final barrier. “Please.”

 

She feels Chloe’s hands hook into the waistband of her panties and pull them down over her hips, where they stop due to Beca’s position. “Maverick…” she pulls again. “I can’t get them...”

 

Beca shakes her head and presses a hard kiss to her lips before moving up and off to let Chloe remove them. “Call me Beca. Please.”

  
When she climbed off Chloe, she’d had every intention of reclaiming her dominant position. Chloe, however, slid right into place atop her as soon as she’d finished stripping Beca bare. Now she smiles down at Beca, legs tangled and bodies fitting together perfectly. “Beca?” She says it like she’s testing it. “That’s pretty. It suits you.”

 

Beca squirms a little under the unexpected scrutiny; she’s used to Chloe judging and evaluating her in the air and in the classroom, but in bed was a different story.

  
“But Maverick…” Chloe says it with a sly curling of her lips. Her fingers trail down along Beca’s arms to her wrists until she grasps them and moves them, first her left, then her right, to be held above her head, pressed into the mattress. “Maverick suits you, too. You don’t like to do things by the book, do you?” She says it like fact, not a question, but Beca shakes her head anyway. “I bet you thought you were going to bring me in here and ravage me.” She says that like it’s every bit the sin that it is and it makes Beca squirm again and fail to come up with an answer. “Well, I think we’re going to throw that book out.” Chloe smiles again and this time she’s the one leaning down and slipping her tongue into Beca’s mouth. Her grip on Beca’s wrist tightens and Beca can’t help the whimper that escapes her. Beca has a feeling Chloe had more to her monologue than she said, but she also knows what the final statement would be: something about Beca being the one to be ravaged if the way Chloe is kissing her is any indication.

 

Chloe breaks out of their kiss to slide backward and Beca keeps her hands exactly where Chloe so purposely put them and watches her kiss her way down Beca’s body. It’s torturous and slow and Beca knows exactly what Chloe’s destination is which only makes the wait feel that much longer.

 

But when Chloe leans down that final distance to taste Beca, time stops completely.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To recap Chapters 1-4:
> 
> Maverick = Beca  
> Goose = Jesse  
> Cougar = Jessica  
> Bobcat = Ashley  
> Commander Smith = John Smith (of Gail and John)  
> Gomez = Cynthia-Rose  
> Gold Digger = Gail  
> Elsa = Aubrey  
> Einstein = Stacie  
> Rover = Chloe  
> Taz = Amy  
> Wolfman = Bumper

* * *

**12 MAY 2017  
** **11:19  
** **MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR**

 

“Hey, Maverick? You hear about Elsa?” Taz asks as they make their way to their birds.

 

“What about her?”

 

“She won another one.”

 

“Really?” Maverick doesn’t care. She’s been flying high all night and all morning, and even after having to slip away from a still-sleeping Chloe, leaving her with a note so she didn’t think she had simply run off, she’s still flying. And now she’s going to fly for real. “I feel the need…”

 

Goose chimes in to finish with a high-five, “The need for speed!”

 

* * *

 

 **12 MAY 2017  
** **12:22  
** **CALIFORNIA DESERT**

 

 _“This is hop 19: multiple aircraft, multiple bogeys,”_ Gomez says over the comm, already in the air, as they do final pre-flight checks in the cockpit. _“Your training is half over. The competition for the TOPGUN trophy remains tight. First place, Elsa. Second, Maverick, two points behind.”_

 

Taz is her wingman today.

 

 _“There they are,”_ Taz calls. _“Three miles, left, ten o'clock. I don’t think they see us yet.”_

 

Maverick looks to where Taz indicates and spots the two birds in the distance. _“Okay, I see them. Two A-4s. Left 10:00, level. Continue left turn.”_

 

_“Good morning, kids. The temperature is 110º.”_

 

 _“Holy shit, it’s Gold Digger!”_ Wolfman’s panicked voice screeches in Maverick’s ears and she flinches.

 

 _“Gold Digger’s up here? Great. Shit.”_ This time it’s Goose and Maverick smiles at everyone’s worry. She’s been waiting for this moment, her chance to nab the first female TOPGUN victor.

 

 _“She’s probably saying, ‘Holy shit, it’s Maverick and Goose.’”_ She snaps her mask on and takes a deep inhale of the pure oxygen that’s about to fuel her dogfight.

 

_“Yeah, I’m sure she’s saying that.”_

 

 _“I've got my eye on the northern bogey,”_ Maverick says, tracking the jet.

 

 _“Roger, I've got the southern guy. I’m going to finish her like a cheesecake,”_ Taz confirms.

 

_“Taz, you lead. I'll cover you.”_

 

She and Taz chase Gold Digger and their old friend Gomez, who peels off to try to split up Maverick and Taz.

 

Maverick stays on Taz’s wing. _“Taz, we’re losing Gold Digger. Let's just stay on Gomez.”_

 

_“Roger, I’m on her.”_

 

_“Goose, find Gold Digger. She’s out there somewhere.”_

 

_“Stay with Taz, Mav. We’re covering her wing.”_

 

She stays close with Taz but a flash catches her attention and she looks to her right, spotting the other jet. _“Goose, there's Gold Digger. 3:00 low.”_

 

 _“Stay with Taz, Mav, we’re her cover.”_ She can hear it in Goose’s voice; he’s almost begging her, but she can’t help it. She doesn’t want to be second best. She wants to win, and beating the best makes you the best.

 

_“Don't you leave me, Maverick.”_

 

 _“Taz, you're looking good. I’m going after Gold Digger.”_ She pulls up and banks a hard right to find an angle on Gold Digger.

 

_“Damn you, Maverick!”_

 

_“Mav, don't leave her!”_

 

 _“Taz is okay. I want Gold Digger.”_ She watches the bogey loop around until it’s flying right at her.

 

_“Holy shit. We're head-to-head, I can’t believe we’re doing this.”_

 

She can hear the worry in Goose’s voice, and it only makes her more determined to succeed. She holds in their game of chicken as long as she can stand it before banking left out of the way of a collision. The move lets her come ‘round and find the angle.

 

 _“Here’s our chance, it’s a big one, Goose!”_ It’s a hard chase, her hardest yet, but she almost has Gold Digger in her sights. She flips a switch and watches the target come on her display. _“Sidewinder missile selected. Come on, baby. That's it.”_ Just when she’s sure she’ll have tone, Gold Digger evades her. _“Jesus, she’s good. Where’s she going?”_

 

She chases Gold Digger over the mountain rise, closing in on her. She’s flying hard, pushing it. She’s flying on pure instinct, faster and harder than she’s gone before, driven by adrenaline and the need to win. _“She's too close for missiles. I'm switching to guns. Stick with it…”_ She’s almost there when a missile lock tone fills her ears - and it’s not her own. _“Hold it. Goose, check our tail.”_

 

_“Shit, there’s Gomez!”_

 

Gomez’s voice replaces the tone. _“Boom, Maverick's dead. You're outta there, girl.”_

 

 _“Shit!”_ Goose shouts and Maverick hears him rip his mask down. _“The Defense Department regrets to inform you that your children are dead because they were stupid.”_

 

 _“Let's go home,”_ Gomez calls. _“Gold Digger has the lead.”_

 

If Maverick could have dragged her feet back to base, she would have. Instead, she had to return traveling at 300 knots.

 

* * *

 

 **12 MAY 2017  
** **14:08  
** **MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR**

 

She’s standing in the locker room, waiting for her turn in a shower, when Gomez walks in and right up to her, in her face. “That was some of the best flying I've seen yet. Right up until the part where you got killed. You never, ever leave your wingman.” That’s all she says before leaving.

 

Though of course, Elsa has to add a word or three, making her presence known. “Maverick, it's not your flying; it's your attitude. The enemy's dangerous, but right now, you're worse than the enemy. You’re dangerous and foolish. You may not like the guys flying with you, they may not like you. But whose side are you on?”

 

Maverick ignores her, though she still hears her, and she knows she’s right. She was up there flying for no one but herself. She ignored Goose’s pleas to follow protocol, she put her wingman at risk, all so she could claim a victory that her very actions cost her.

 

“At least Gold Digger got Elsa before she got us,” Goose says when she takes a seat next to him. “We've still got a shot at it.”

 

Maverick’s kicking herself, and she knows she will be for days. “That was stupid, I know better than that. That will never happen again,” she says to him. It’s one thing to lose it for herself, but it’s another to lose it for Jesse.

 

“I know.”

 

* * *

 

 **15 MAY 2017  
** **16:47  
** **THE PACIFIC OCEAN**

 

_“This is hop 31. Two weeks to graduation. The TOPGUN trophy is still up for grabs, so every point counts.”_

 

Hop 31 has Maverick in the air for the trophy tiebreak - and Elsa is her wingman.

 

 _“Are you up for this one, Maverick?”_ Elsa calls in, and Maverick looks to the right to acknowledge her, flying close enough at 15,000 feet and half the speed of sound that they can see each other clear as day. The sun is setting, lighting up the sky behind them in hues of orange and yellow.

 

_“Just a walk in the park, Posen.”_

 

Einstein calls in. _“Contact. Multiple bogeys, 1-6-5. Two miles. Looks like they’re going away from us.”_

 

Maverick looks toward the heading and spots the three jets below. _“I see them. Right, 2:00. I'm in.”_

 

 _“I'm in,”_ echoes Elsa and they bank together to come up behind them. Their presence makes the bogeys break formation and Maverick takes the eastern bogey. She sees Elsa take off after the left, only to loop back and cut past her too close to comfort. _“That bitch cut me off!”_ It interrupts her flight path enough that she loses her chance to make a move.

 

Now Elsa’s in her way, giving chase to the bogey that Maverick would have downed in less than a minute. _“Come on, dude. Take the shot or move.”_

 

_“I can't get the angle. I'm too close for missiles. I'm switching to guns.”_

 

Maverick keeps tailing Elsa, the bogey in her sights, the only thing stopping her from getting tone on it the fact that Elsa won’t move her fucking ass out of the way. _“Elsa, fire or clear! Christ, I can take a shot right here.”_

 

_“I need another twenty seconds and I've got him.”_

 

It’s the longest twenty seconds of her life and Elsa’s not taking the fucking shot. _“I'm moving in. I've got the shot.”_

 

 _“Come on, Mav, let’s get in there!”_ Goose is anxious too, knowing this is their win.

 

_“Maverick’s getting impatient, Els, take the shot!”_

 

_“Ten more seconds, then I’ve got him.”_

 

Goose wants it as badly as Maverick does. _“Come on, Elsa, get the hell out of there! Do it, Mav!”_

 

_“Elsa, come off my right. I’m in.”_

 

_“Five more seconds.”_

 

_“Elsa, get off, I’m in!”_

 

_“I’m off. Shit!”_

 

Elsa peels away but when Maverick tries to make her move, her stick feels like it hits a wall. Alarms sound and suddenly they’re spinning.

 

 _“I’m in her jetwash! Shit!”_ She fights with the stick, left and right but the aircraft doesn’t respond, she can’t react quickly enough to what it’s doing.

 

 _“We’ve got a flame-out, Mav! Engine one is out!”_ She knows Goose is scrambling behind her, checking readings and headings and trying to solve the problem best he can in the uncontrollable spin they’re in. _“Engine two is out!”_ It’s deathly quiet now aside from the alarms and buzzers screaming in her ears.

 

 _“I can’t control it - she won’t recover!”_ The stick is useless and they spin like a merry-go-round, falling from the sky.

 

 _“Mayday, mayday. Mav’s in trouble. She’s in a flat spin heading out to sea.”_ She hears Elsa call in the mayday, something she’s too distracted to have thought of, trying to get the engines to reignite so she can regain control. But she can’t and the Gs are killing her, making the impossible fight even more difficult.

 

 _“Altitude 8,000. 7,000!”_ Goose is counting it down, the feet flying by so quickly that Maverick knows they have literal seconds left until they’re in the Pacific. _“Six! We’re at six!”_

  
She looks up to spot the two loops above her seat but the Gs are so strong she can’t lift her arms. _“I’m pinned, Goose! I can’t reach the ejection handle!”_ She tries again but she can barely lift her fingers. _“You’re going to have to punch us out! Eject!”_

 

_“I’m trying!”_

 

_“Eject! Eject! Eject! Watch the canopy!”_

 

Sparks fly as the canopy is blown off by explosives and a second later fireworks under her seat launch her into the sky. Her parachute deploys and she’s trying to get her brain to stop spinning when she spots Goose several meters away, body limp as he descends toward the ocean. “Jesse!” He doesn’t respond and she sees her aircraft crash a few miles to the east, a fireball on the surface of the ocean.

 

The second she splashes down she throws off her helmet and chute and she’s swimming because Jesse isn’t moving and he’s face-down in the water. She reaches him and there’s blood streaming down his face under his helmet, his arm twisted at an unnatural angle. “Jesse! No, no no no! Jesse, wake up! Wake up!” She tries to feel for a pulse but the sea is rough and cold and her own heart is racing so quickly that she can’t feel anything. She holds him, talking to him trying to wake him up as she hears the rescue helicopter nearing. “No, Jess. No, you’re fine. You’re fine. I’m going to take care of you. We’re going to do this together. We’re going to graduate, and we’re going to be the badasses we always said we’d be, and you’re going to finally find a girl who likes your stupid fucking singing and I’m going to be your best man and we’re going to be Captains and we’re going to fucking run the Enterprise. You can’t die! I won’t let you!”

 

She doesn’t realize a diver’s in the water with them until someone is pushing at her hands, shouting at her. “Ma’am, let go of him. You have to let him go, ma’am!” She doesn’t want to, but she has to and she watches the diver drag Jesse toward the helicopter to load him into a basket and send him up.

 

* * *

 

 **15 MAY 2017  
** **21:34  
** **MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR HOSPITAL**

 

She’s in the bathroom at the base hospital half-heartedly brushing her teeth when Gold Digger walks in and leans against the doorframe. “How are you?”

 

“I’m all right,” she said coldly.

 

“Goose is in a coma.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You fly jets long enough, something like this happens.”

 

“He was my RIO. My responsibility.”

 

“My squadron in Iraq, we lost eight of 18 aircraft. 10 men. There will be others. You can count on it. Goose got lucky this time. So did you.”

 

* * *

 

 **15 MAY 2017  
** **23:09  
** **MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR, HOSPITAL**

 

Chloe picks her up at the hospital, a thinly veiled look of panic on her face. “Are you okay?” she asks as soon as she sees Beca.

 

“Yeah. Just sore.”

 

Chloe takes her arm under the guise of helping her down the front steps and doesn’t let it go until she’s helped Beca into her car where she hugs her. She’s cautious about it, equal parts self-conscious and not wanting to hurt Beca. Her lips graze the corner of Beca’s mouth when she sits back to start the car.

 

“I think maybe it was my fault,” Beca says, knocking her fist on her knee. “I don’t know what the hell went wrong.”

 

“It’s not your fault.” Chloe covers her fist and manages to intertwine their fingers so she’s holding her hand instead of punching her knee. She pulls out of the parking lot and heads toward Beca’s house. “And I’m here for you, anything you need. But you need to remember that he loved flying with you.”

 

Beca tries to nod and keeps her eyes on the coastline.

 

Chloe spends the night with her. They don’t do anything beyond exchange a few words. Chloe makes dinner but neither of them eats much, and she falls asleep on the couch while Chloe plays with her hair.


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

 

**17 MAY 2017  
** **10:19  
** **MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR, ADMINISTRATION BUILDING**

 

She’s summoned to an inquiry two days later - barely enough time for the pain and soreness to start to fade. New bruises from the violence of the ejection and splashdown are still appearing but she’s in her dress whites in front of a panel of Captains. She stands at attention, waiting to find out if her career is over. If she’ll be found guilty of wrongdoing. If she’s going to prison.

 

“We find that the F-14 flat spin was induced by the disruption of airflow into the starboard engine. This disruption stalled the engine which produced enough yaw rate to induce a spin which was unrecoverable. There was no way Lieutenant Mitchell could either see or avoid the jetwash which produced the engine stall. Therefore, the Board of Inquiry finds Lieutenant Beca Mitchell was not at fault in the accident of 15 May. Lieutenant Mitchell's record is cleared of this incident. Lieutenant Mitchell is restored to flight status without delay. These proceedings are closed.”

 

She exhales but there’s little relief. She feels guilty, even if the inquiry cleared her. Jesse’s still in a coma. A coma she put him in. She picks up her cap and leaves.

 

She wants to go home. She wants to sleep. She wants Chloe to play with her hair and tell her everything’s going to be okay. But she’s not even off the base when she gets a call ordering her to report immediately for another hop.

 

* * *

 

**17 MAY 2017  
** **12:53  
** **MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR**

 

She has a new RIO, someone she doesn’t know, has never met until the moment they shake hands next to her new bird.

 

“Maverick! Wow. I can’t even...dude, I’m so psyched to meet you. You’re a fricking legend.”

 

The girl bounces in place and doesn’t look a day over eighteen and Maverick wonders how she’s at TOPGUN. She nods at the helmet in the girl’s hand and the name on it. “Junkyard?”

 

“That’s me!” she says enthusiastically with a slap to her helmet.

 

“Great. Pre-check. Let’s go.” She ignores Junkyard except when it’s necessary to talk to her, trying to get her mind right. She climbs the side of the aircraft and straps in, struggling with the pain and fear of what was once nothing but thrill and excitement. The last time she sat in this seat, she had to make a decision that altered Jesse’s life. Both their lives. She wants to move on, she wants to win. For him.

 

She secures the canopy and taxis to the runway and they’re airborne.

 

_“You got a bogey at 2:00 low, Maverick. You got the angle. Piece of cake, pal.”_

 

She looks to where Junkyard’s spotted it and sees Gomez. It should be easy. She could take him down in thirty seconds from her position.

 

_“You can engage any time, Maverick.”_ She knows she can. Gomez is basically floating in front of her like a butterfly. It wasn’t this easy even on hop 1.

 

But it’s not right. Something doesn’t feel right. Everything makes her itch and jump. She can’t stop checking her gauges. The stick feels heavy in her hand. She struggles to even focus her vision and she rolls out of the pursuit.

 

_“Where are you going?”_

 

_“It's not good. It doesn't look good.”_

 

_“What do you mean? It doesn't get to look any better than that.”_

 

She knows Junkyard is right. She’s never had a more perfect shot in her life. But she doesn’t feel right.

 

They return to base without earning any points for the challenge. And she knows it’s on her. She could have won that easily and now she’s ruining it for Junkyard, too, who probably started her day thinking she was a shoo-in to get her name on that plaque coming in as Maverick’s new RIO.

 

Junkyard catches up with her as she stalks away from the hangar, wanting nothing more than to get out of her flight suit and go home. “Hey, hey! Maverick! We could have had her. She was right there!”

 

A bouncy pre-teen is the last person she needs telling her how to do her job and she snaps, rounding on the girl. “I will fire when I’m God damn good and ready! Am I clear?”

 

She’s in the locker room packing her things when Elsa walks in. Yet another last thing she needs today. She tries to ignore her, busying herself with retying her hair.

 

“Mitchell.” She hears Elsa but doesn’t turn. “I'm sorry about Goose. Everybody liked him...even me. I'm sorry.”

 

She waits until Aubrey walks away before closing her locker one last time to go turn in her wings.

 

* * *

 

**17 MAY 2017  
** **18:06  
** **OFF-BASE BAR**

 

She’s at the bar on the outskirts of the base feeling sorry for herself when someone touches her shoulder.

 

“May I?”

 

She looks up to see Chloe offering a soft smile. “Please.”

 

Chloe takes the stool next to her and gets the bartender’s attention. “I’ll have whatever she’s having,” she says, pointing to Beca’s class. “Vodka rocks?”

 

“Ice water,” Beca says with a weak smile.

 

“We met at this bar,” Chloe says after a few seconds of silence. Beca just nods and twists her glass, watching the circles of condensation it leaves on the polished surface. “You know, I went through your flight. Read the reports. It wasn’t your fault, Beca. You’re one of the best pilots in the Navy and what you do up there is dangerous. But you can’t quit.”

 

She doesn’t look up. “How’d you know I quit?”

 

"Somebody knows everything."

 

Beca sniffs at that. “You don't understand.”

 

“You don’t get it, Beca. When I first met you, you were larger than life. Look at you.” Chloe touches her cheek, trying to get her to meet her gaze. “You’re not happy unless you’re going Mach 2. You know that.”

 

Beca shakes her head. “No. It’s over.”

 

“To be the best of the best means you make mistakes, and then you go on. It's just like the rest of us.”

 

“You don't think I know that?”

 

“I'm here to help.”

 

“Look, thank you. But if I wanted help I would have asked for it.” She sees Chloe’s posture sag and she knows she’s hurting her. Unnecessarily. Chloe doesn’t deserve it. And she doesn’t deserve Chloe. She knows shutting her out is the most hurtful thing she can do to the girl, so that’s exactly what she does to save her from herself.

 

“You didn't learn a dang thing, did you? Except to quit. You've got that maneuver down real well.” She sees Chloe make to leave. “See you later, Beca Mitchell.”

 

Beca just frowns at her glass and lets her leave. One more good thing she’s let slip away.

 

* * *

 

**21 MAY 2017  
** **14:27  
** **LA JOLLA, CALIFORNIA**

 

She’s about to head out of town when she decides to make a pit stop. She knocks on the door to Gold Digger’s house, her husband welcoming her in.

 

“Hey, Maverick. Gail will be right down.”

 

“Okay. Thank you.” She’s left to her own devices in what must be Gold Digger’s office. The walls are lined with photos - all manner of jets and locations, Gold Digger posing with President Clinton, and another with President Bush. On the far wall she sees a familiar face, but a photo she’s never seen before.

 

“I flew with your dad.” A voice behind her gets her attention but she doesn’t turn, too busy taking in the photo of her father posing in front of a type of aircraft she’s never even seen in person, next to Gold Digger. “You're a lot like he was. Only better...and worse. He was a natural heroic son of a bitch.”

 

She smiles. “He did it right.”

 

“Yeah, he did it right. Is that why you fly the way you do? Are you trying to prove something?” Gold Digger turns to leave and Beca follows until they’re strolling through the neighborhood. “What I'm about to tell you is classified. We were in the worst dogfight I ever dreamed of. There were bogeys like fireflies all over the sky. His F-4 was hit, and he was wounded but he could have made it back. He stayed in it. Saved three planes before he bought it.”

 

“How come no one told me?”

 

“That's not something the State Department tells dependents when the battle occurred over the wrong line on some map.”

 

“So you were there?”

 

“I was one of the three he saved.”

 

Beca’s still processing the information that her father did die the hero she always pictured him to be. That he saved lives. He saved the life of the woman standing next to her.

 

“What's on your mind, Maverick?”

 

She turns to face her instructor, seeing her in a whole new light. “My options, ma’am.”

 

“Oh, it’s not too complicated. You have enough points. You can show up tomorrow and graduate with your class. Or you could quit. No one would blame you. That spin would have shaken me up, too.”

 

“So you think I should quit?”

 

“I didn’t say that. I know you feel responsible for Goose. But you also have a confidence problem.”

 

Beca straightens her back at that.

 

“I'm not going to sugarcoat this. A good pilot is compelled to evaluate what's happened so she can apply what she's learned. Up there, we have to push it. That's our job. It's your option, Lieutenant.”

 

“Sorry to bother you on a Sunday, ma’am, but thank you very much for your time.”

 

She has a lot to think about.

 

* * *

 

**28 MAY 2017  
** **11:57  
** **MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR**

 

She watches her class graduate from the rear of the courtyard and watches Gold Digger hand Elsa and Einstein the TOPGUN trophy, all handshakes and cheers, and she makes her way to the front once the ceremony breaks. She gets handshakes and back slaps from her classmates along the way, until she’s made it up to Elsa, who smiles a little more warmly than usual.

 

She nods at the plaque in Aubrey's hands. “Congratulations.”

 

“Thank you.” They shake hands.

 

“Congratulations,” she repeats, shaking Stacie's hand.

 

“Thanks, Mav.”

 

She’s about to apologize to Emily when Gold Digger gets their attention. “Ladies, gentlemen. I hate to break up the party, but I have some news.” She looks at Maverick. “I just received word that Goose is conscious. He’s asking for you, Maverick.”

 

Cheers erupt and Beca feels like she might pass out and the moment she starts to stumble, an arm catches her around the waist.

 

“Whoa, I got you. It’s okay, I got you.” She looks up to see Chloe smiling at her.

 

“But...I thought we were done?” She’s confused and feeling about five thousand different emotions right now, but most of them are in the range of ‘happy.’ “You’re here? Jesse’s okay?”

 

“I said I’d see you later, not goodbye forever. And yes, he’s okay. Wanna go see him?”

 

“Yeah. Yes. Now. Can we go now?” She starts walking but it’s apparently the wrong direction as Chloe grabs her wrist and guides her the opposite way. She notices they’re holding hands. On the base. In front of the entire TOPGUN staff. And her class.

 

She’s about to comment on it when Chloe pulls her to a stop to face one another.

 

“Maverick?”

 

“Rover?” she answers with a smile; she feels drunk.

 

“I’m proud of you.”

 

Beca blushes and looks away, butterflies filling her stomach and tears stinging her eyes. “No one’s said that to me…”

 

“Since…?”

 

“My dad.” She looks up and sees the look on Chloe’s face shift from surprise to pity to compassion and feels Chloe take up both her hands to hold them against her chest.

 

“Beca. I’m proud of you.” She smiles. “And I love you. And I don’t care who knows.”

 

She lets herself get swept up in Chloe’s arms and it’s not until she hears people catcalling and whistling that she realizes Chloe has her in a full dip as they kiss. She laughs and so does Chloe as they right themselves and she gives her classmates a rock ‘n’ roll gesture with the hand not still held by Chloe, because fuck yeah, she got the hot instructor.

 

“Maverick, hold up.” It’s Gold Digger pushing her way through their audience. “The rest of you, too. I know you want to celebrate, but there's work to be done. Some of you have to depart immediately. We have a crisis situation.”

 

Beca exchanges looks with Chloe and she wonders how much Chloe already knows.

 

Gold Digger is passing out envelopes. “Elsa, Einstein! Taz, Wolfman! Maverick!”

 

“Ma’am.” She steps forward and takes her envelope and opens it, reading.

 

“Maverick, you'll get your RIO when you get to your ship. And if you don't…” Gold Digger hesitates, then offers a reserved smile. “Give me a call. I'll fly with you.”

 

Beca nods. “Ma’am.”

 

“Back to the Enterprise you go, hmm?” Chloe whispers in her ear, arms sliding around her from the back.

 

Beca turns a little to try to see her. “Duty calls.”

 

“I’ll be here when you get back.”

 

She turns the rest of the way, letting her arms drape over Chloe’s shoulders. She doesn’t do anything, just takes her in - the color of her eyes, the freckles across her nose, the little scar on her forehead, the pink of her lips. “You better be,” she finally says.

 

Chloe smiles and tilts her head. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

 

Beca smiles back. “Because I love you, too.”


End file.
